Sleepless Night
by Amethyst Ocean
Summary: Geoff is experiencing a severe case of insomnia that will never seem to go away. In hopes of curing his sleep deprivation, he decides to brush up on his poetry. But exactly what sort of outcome will this fluffy little love poem produce? GxB Three-shot.
1. Sleepless Night

**Author's Note: **It's 11:30 PM, I find myself with insomnia, and I'm being mercilessly mocked by the horrifying test that awaits me tomorrow. So far, my situation screams impending doom and utter failure. I just thought I'd cushion the brutal fall by writing a little something.

**Disclaimer: **In spirit of this fan fiction, I will produce a very short rhyme: TDI is not mine.

Wow. I just realized something.

I'm a genius.

* * *

**A Love Poem Written By: Geoff **

**For the Girl Invading His Dreams: Bridgette **

* * *

**-**

**Sleepless Night**

**-**

Another sleepless night  
I lie still in my bed  
I think it's happened again  
Yes, you're stuck in my head

This lack of sleep is depriving  
I'm not sure what I should do  
Yet, I don't really care  
As long as I'm thinking of you

I see your beautiful face  
Every time I close my eyes  
So gorgeous, I can't sleep  
I'm awoken by surprise

I decide to go for a walk  
In hopes it'll clear my mind  
But as the moon shines brightly  
I see your image one more time

I breathe in, I breathe out  
I hear the music that is your voice  
My heart beats faster in my chest  
Now I know I don't have a choice

I couldn't stop imagining you if I tried  
Your wonderful laughter rings in my ears  
I picture your hair, your eyes  
You're so far, but I feel you right here

And now I begin to wonder  
Do you think about me too?  
Am I the cause of your sleepless nights?  
Or have you moved onto someone new?

I desperately pray you still love me  
As impossible as that seems  
And I hope I'm not giving you sleepless nights  
But instead, sweet dreams

* * *

**A/N: **Ah, what a lovely poem. It seems like Geoff has improved…

But this love story's not over yet. ;)


	2. Counting Sheep

**Author's Note: **At the gentle prodding of someone very special… and just because I like to please her so, being my friend… this story will have not one, but _two_ more chapters. And frankly, I pretty much wanted to add further installments to this anyways.

So… this is for you, Trish. x)

**Disclaimer: **Again, not mine.

* * *

**-**

**Counting Sheep**

**-**

It had been several weeks since Geoff had written his adorable, little love poem for Bridgette one sleepless night ago. Life was slowly dragging on in the same monotonous fashion it always did, offering him some very lazy summer days.

Now to say that he had finally gotten some shut eye after he had written said poem, would be the biggest understatement of the year. In fact, not only did his passionate rhyme make him feel even _worse_, but it also made him feel utterly hopeless. He missed Bridgette terribly—Lord knows how much. She was the very reason why all his nights continued to remain sleepless.

And tonight would be no different. It marked another lonely evening in which he would have to survive without her. At this rate, sometimes he asked himself why he even bothered existing in the first place. Without Bridgette, there was no more meaning to his life; without meaning, he had no life. And without life… he was dead.

Yet, fate, as cruel as it was, hadn't exactly taken everyone dear away from him. To some good fortune, he had managed stay in contact with a couple of his old friends from Camp Wawanakwa.

Being the loyal pals they were, they tried to visit him once a week—or at least DJ did. Duncan usually had other things to attend to—more specifically his girlfriend, Courtney—but he came whenever he could.

Tonight, however, both his buddies were preoccupied.

And so, here we begin our story with Geoff sitting tiredly inside his home, watching TV by himself. Knowing that he'd have no company, his mood dampened considerably as he quietly sat on the couch, gazing off in a despondent daze.

Imagine his immediate surprise when he heard the doorbell ring enthusiastically, a shady figure standing behind all the noise. Having been startled, he quickly stood up and curiously answered the door.

"Hey, man," came the familiar voice of his sensitive friend from the island, smiling and carrying a hand woven basket in his arm.

"Whoa, DJ, dude!" Geoff exclaimed happily, caught off guard by his sudden appearance.

"I brought some cookies," the peaceful animal lover beamed as he calmly gestured to the basket he held. "I just baked them today, so they're fresh."

"That's great, man!" the cowboy grinned as he looked him over. "But what are you doing here? Not that your presence bothers me—but I thought you were going to be at your grandma's house for the weekend," he suddenly observed, scratching his golden locks.

"Nah," he shrugged. "My grandma is busy knitting with her friends, and I didn't want to impose."

"But you love knitting," Geoff raised a questionable eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know. But my grandma told me I should start hanging out with kids my age." At this he thoughtfully began to ponder, rubbing his chin, "Yet, for some reason, she was in a real rush to get me out of the house… I mean, if I'm not mistaken, I think I saw a bag of poker chips hidden inside her purse."

"Uh, dude," the blonde surmised, hating to be the one pointing out the obvious, "I think Duncan was right when he said your grandmother gambled."

"What?!" the gentle giant gasped in indignation. Clearly, he didn't take misleading situations concerning members of his family so well. "She's my grandma, and grandmas don't gamble!" he insisted. "I swear—the lady's innocent!"

"…"

"My granny's a saint! Are you listening to me?! A saint!"

"…"

"And ain't nobody gonna tell you otherwise!"

Silence.

Finally, Geoff spoke up, blinking in a childlike manner, "So… uh… does this mean I can't have a cookie?"

The slightly miffed jock sobered as he glanced around. "…Yeah, okay."

* * *

As the night had worn on, the sky emanated an orange like tinge, signaling that it would soon be daybreak.

Meanwhile, countless time-consuming hours had been wasted as DJ and Geoff played innumerable mind numbing video games, particularly having to do with racing cars. DJ of course, wouldn't be able to stomach any of the gore induced games Geoff owned, courtesy of Duncan. This being the case, their less violent, virtual speeding matches would have to do instead.

Although naturally, more than anybody else, DJ was perfectly okay with this thoughtful adjustment. After all, it was done in his favor. The only thing he wasn't fine with was the unbearable scenario he currently found himself scattered in—literally.

Disgusting clothes sprawled sloppily along the floor; food crumbs; soda cans; and trashy litter of every kind: these were the sort of items ceremoniously decorating Geoff's room. But their supposed "manly touch" was anything but elegant. In fact, its disorderly, untidy appearance wouldn't allow for such an area to look anything less than repulsive.

Yet, despite this incredible disarray of uncleanness, DJ was a respected lad of utter kindness and civility. It was far from his nature to openly express his discomfort in his friend's room; that would just be plain rude. After all, he was an honored guest and felt that if anything, he should be polite.

Yes, being well-mannered and discreet were only a few of the morals and codes of conduct he so vibrantly lived by. He hoped to continue abiding by this gracious lifestyle too—that is, until his hand unknowingly grabbed a handful of soggy underwear instead of the barbeque chips beside him.

"YAAAAAHHH!" the appalled Jamaican screeched, completely horrified and dismayed. He immediately jumped away from the spot his was sitting in, and began to fling the smelly garments around in an attempt to get rid of them.

"Okay, man, look I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, raising his hands up in surrender. "I didn't want it to come to this, but dang your room is a _mess_! There, I said it! Your room is plain nasty, man! When was the last time you cleaned it?!"

Geoff calmly stared at DJ, not at all offended by his sudden outburst. It was completely understandable, of course. He was merely surprised that he hadn't said anything earlier.

"I'm sorry, dude," he apologized, his tone an exhausted one. "I just… I just haven't really been up to doing much lately."

At this, DJ's eyebrows shot up in deep concern for his friend. "What do you mean?" he carefully asked, well aware that he seemed to be sinking down into a depressive state.

"I—oh... nothing," the blonde quietly shook his head, trying his best to smile. Geoff was truly being sincere in that he didn't want him to worry. His emotional pain was really no big deal. His thin-skinned pal was better off without knowing.

"Geoff," he slowly walked up to him, gently placing two strong hands on his shoulders, "tell me what's on your mind."

"It's—it's nothing, man," the party going teenager assured, lightly shrugging DJ's hands off.

"But it's not just 'nothing'," he countered back seriously, staring effectively at Geoff with solemn, understanding eyes. "You're not yourself today. In fact, I don't think you've been yourself at all for these past few months. Something's definitely wrong with you, man, and I plan on helping you get through this."

The blue-eyed boy stared at his friend and sighed sadly as he shook his head, "It's not that simple, bro. I don't think there's any way you could help me."

DJ shook his head, smiling softly, "It's Bridgette, isn't it?"

Geoff's sapphire orbs suddenly widened considerably at the notion. The Jamaican's smile grew wider as he realized he had caught it dead on.

"Listen," he assured, "it's okay to miss her. We know how tight you two were on that island. We all saw your relationship develop into something real. I know that you really like her, man. But you got to keep going on. You can't just live a life of sadness or else you'll really regret it. Bridgette wouldn't want that—I don't want that. So come on, brother, pull yourself together."

"But don't you see DJ?" he breathed in exasperation. "I can't! I just can't! Bridgette means everything to me! She was my whole world, and still is! How can I forget about her? How do you expect me to move on?" He sadly lowered his head as he whispered his utmost sentiment, "I don't just like her—I _love_ her."

DJ's face fell as soon as he heard the great sorrow radiating from his soul. It was an awful situation to be in; to have to witness someone you really care about endure so much pain. He wasn't quite sure of what would be best to say at a time like this. He knew love was serious, and he'd never experience the kind of love such as Geoff was undergoing.

"You know," the cowboy smiled dryly, purposely changing the subject, "I'm going to make a quick stop over to the restroom. I'll be back." With those last few words, he promptly walked away, leaving his friend feeling useless and incredibly stumped.

"Man, I wish there was something I could do," the brick house muttered to himself as he shook his head.

This just wasn't right! Geoff didn't deserve this horrible suffering or vile affliction! It was absolutely unfair to him! Going on for over a year… without seeing the woman he so dearly cherished… the poor fellow.

DJ merely sighed as he hopelessly gazed around his friend's muddled room, vehemently wishing there was something he could do.

He suddenly froze in position as he caught a piece of white stationery paper, neatly dabbed with words written in black ink, sticking out candidly from a poorly closed desk. He curiously scooted forward as he tentatively removed the parchment from its place, holding it with careful hands.

He blinked at it for a few seconds, contemplating on whether he should read it or not. He knew it wouldn't exactly be in his right mind or business to be looking at something that did not belong to him. But alas, the temptation was fervently getting to him! He couldn't control himself; as soon as his wandering eyes met with the words on the page, he found himself gaping speechlessly at the wall, flabbergasted.

"Sleepless Night, huh?" he murmured quietly to himself in disbelief. "Well I'll be darned. Who knew Geoff could write so well? This is amazing! He really got better at this stuff. Must've been practicing…" he trailed off, glancing downward at the poem in thought.

"And I've got just the idea on how to fix this mess!" he exclaimed abruptly, more than happy that he had figured out a way to help his distraught pal.

DJ was unexpectedly interrupted of his musings as he heard the alarm in Geoff's room blare melodiously, flashing the hour. His eyes widened immensely as he realized that clock read 6:00 AM. Too busy having fun with Geoff, he hadn't even noticed how long he had stayed; the whole night, apparently!

"Shoot," he muttered, "I gotta go. Better tell him it's time to take my leave."

He scampered quickly over to the bathroom the blonde was occupied in, raising a closed fist to the door as he politely knocked, "Geoff, man, it's 6:00 AM. I didn't realize how late it was until I checked the time."

Through the door he could hear him answer back through a muffled croak, "O-okay dude. You can go now if you want. I actually remembered that I have a lot of things to do today."

DJ cringed as he heard the hoarseness of his voice, sounding exactly if as he had been crying. He could tell through his whimpers and sniffles that he had probably isolated himself in the first place to grieve over his feelings for Bridgette.

"I'm sorry, Geoff," he replied remorsefully. "I'll be back soon. You just hang in there, man. You're strong and brave. I know you can do it."

Although DJ couldn't see it, Geoff nodded, trying to be accepting and making light of the situation.

His Jamaican friend was about to turn on his heel when he suddenly paused and suggested, "Hey, buddy. For your sleepless nights, my advice is counting sheep. It may not be the best remedy, but it works."

DJ swiftly walked out the door as he said this, leaving Geoff alone to struggle with his thoughts in slight confusion at his proposal.

As soon as DJ was out of his house and by the driveway, he promptly strode over to his chum's mailbox and stuffed a letter inside. Pleased with himself, he smiled contentedly, believing that his plan would work.

"Don't worry Geoff," he grinned to himself, successfully shutting the mailbox closed, "I'll make sure Bridgette hears about your sleepless nights. I'm sure she feels the same way. You just keep counting sheep, my friend. Just keep on counting sheep."

* * *

**A/N: **Well, here's the second chapter of this story. I hope you liked it. The third should be on its way.

DJ's a great friend, isn't he? :)

Don't forget to review!


	3. Dream Come True

**Author's Note: **And now my friends, comes the final installment of this story after _SO_ immensely long! I figured since I haven't updated in forever, why not finally update today?

But seriously; let's cut the anticipated apologies from the authoress (although, I REALLY am sorry for the long wait). I just want you all to be able to read your story as quickly as you can. I mean, really, who wants to hear me blather incessantly?

And on another important note: Yeah! First update of 2009! :D

**Disclaimer: **Obviously not mine. However, be warned: I may not own TDI, but I do possess the maniacal skills to insinuate some _serious _fluff. (Which is why the rating had to go higher.)

O.o Yeah.

* * *

**-**

**Dream Come True**

**-**

Geoff's sapphire eyes bore into his mother's equally azure orbs as the two blondes gazed challengingly at one another, critically engulfed in a heated staring match.

"Mom," the seventeen year old male began, speaking in a rough tone he hardly ever used, "you're not going, okay." It wasn't a suggestion; it was a _command_.

His mother steadily cracked a wry smile, unfazed, as she replied smoothly in a stern voice, "Now, Geoff, you realize that I am your mother and as such have parental authority over you. You are in no position to be ordering _me_ what to do."

She spoke with the fine eloquence and tone of credible conduct that was demanded from her as an erudite diplomat, whereas her son normally spoke in surfer slang. Yet, the pair couldn't have been more alike than they were ready to deem possible.

"And do you realize," Geoff countered, his timbre slightly jarring, "that I am going to be all alone in this house for the entire month of August?" He glared at her thoroughly as he hoarsely added, "This is the last month of my summer vacation. I just don't get why you would leave me like this! And right after you just got back from your five week business trip only two days ago!"

"Honey," she attempted to placate her son by gently rubbing the back of his golden head, "I know it looks bad, but I have to do this. If I don't do my job I'm going to get fired."

"That's why I've taken up a part time job catering at that restaurant eight blocks down," he murmured, his tone growing softer as his mother's caresses soothed him into mild tranquility.

"Oh, honey," she whispered regretfully, embracing her son, "you didn't have to do that."

"But I wanted to, Mom," he modestly answered, wrapping his strong arms around her in return.

"I'd rather you focused on your schoolwork," she said as she slowly pulled away, staring at him seriously. "I'm the one who's supposed to make the money in this house. You don't worry about it. You are my top priority."

"Then if I'm really your top priority," he abruptly instigated, his tone an entreating one, "stay here with me. You're always leaving. You never stay here for long. I need you Mom. Don't go." His cerulean eyes began to shimmer threateningly as his lower lip stuck out in an adorable pout.

"Geoff…" she pleaded with him, averting her own eyes from his sad face, "Please, don't make this any harder on me. I have to go. I have no choice, this is important."

"Ugh!" He instantly broke away from his mother as angry tears streaked down his crimson colored cheeks.

"Geoff!" his mother cried sympathetically. "Please, don't be mad at me! Don't cry—I didn't mean to—"

"It's not you Mom!" he hurriedly insisted, his voice turning scratchy. "It's—it's—" he stumbled helplessly with his words, "—it's Dad!"

His mother's azure orbs widened as her son brought the very subject of her ex-husband to date. She trembled in place as he continued, "It's his fault that you always have to leave! It's his fault that you're a single working parent raising a teenager all by yourself! If he was here you wouldn't have to live like this—_we_ wouldn't have to live like this!" His voice was slightly carried over an octave higher as he exclaimed this.

And then there came deathly silence. Cold, solid silence. It was all that could be identified for the past five minutes after such an unexpected outburst; neither mother nor son making any notion whatsoever to speak.

It was until finally Geoff quietly muttered his apologies that the room seemed to settle again, loosing its uncomfortable air-filled strain.

With teary eyes, his mother softly brought her son's chin up, looking into his crystal pools, "You shouldn't be sorry Geoff." Her voice was placid, but firm, "Your father never knew what he wanted in life. He never set aside any priorities—his reasons for living." She cradled her beautiful blonde boy close to her heart as she affectionately kissed his forehead and said, "You need to have a main priority, Geoff. What do you want most out of life?"

Those were the very last words that resounded magically in the young man's mind twenty minutes from now, shortly after his mother had left. Her curt absence left another aching dent in his already severely punctured heart.

Just because Geoff was the supposed life of the party, didn't mean he was liberated from any of life's problems. In fact, people would be more than surprised to find out he had these kinds of issues burning holes through his brain. The incredulous formula of Geoff plus stress equaled beyond impossible in the eyes of his peers who had gotten to know him.

He was, after all, the infamous party thrower of Total Drama Island. No one else could even fathom any other soul besides him who could throw a better party, let alone be the most carefree person they ever encountered.

Geoff frowned heavily at the way nearly everyone automatically assumed he was incapable of feeling anxiety, nervousness, fear, nostalgia: the very emotions that had unmercifully pitted themselves within him for the past year.

It was then, perhaps, he decided right then and there, that they didn't _really_ know him.

With his mother frequently leaving him for worse in scattered intervals, the pain of his father's betrayal ever vexing him, and the loss of never seeing his beautiful angel Bridgette—the only one in camp who had truly gotten to _understand_ him—, the once lively teenager wasn't sure just how much he could handle anymore. It was brutally ripping him apart at the seams.

_You need to have a main priority, Geoff. What do you want most out of life?_

And with those final impending thoughts, came yet another bitter, sleepless night.

* * *

A vibrant splash of sunlight swept gracefully into Geoff's bedroom, the bright rays gliding and dancing rapidly over his sheet covered figure as their ethereal laughter bubbled sweet "good mornings" and "hellos". But the only response they received in return was an irked sigh and a clutter of garbled words, presumably ones expressing grumpy contempt. Then, in one swift infallible movement, the colored layers of quilted bed fabric were thrown clear off its occupant's body, leaving one unpleasantly trussed up boy sitting on a bare mattress.

DJ's advice from a couple of weeks ago had not been working at all. Counting sheep clearly wasn't doing it for him.

He groaned in tired frustration as he shot up angrily, walking over in a huff to his bathroom.

There he prepared himself for his daily routine, which consisted of brushing his teeth, showering, getting dressed, skipping breakfast as usual since he was too fed up to care, and lastly, drowning in his self misery all in time to catch his favorite TV show by seven. Needless to say, the party-thrower had his whole life planned out.

It was when he had just gotten out of the shower with a towel wrapped securely around his waist, blonde hair dripping, and perfectly chiseled chest soaked with water, that he was suddenly stopped by his reflection. His very being froze as he introspectively scrutinized his own face. He didn't move or say anything. He was much too disenchanted by his eyes—his once shining, youthful eyes—were now completely bloodshot red.

He didn't know if it was from lack of sleep or because he was crazy.

He gave a low, dry chuckle. He probably was.

He was crazy in so many ways. Crazy for parties, crazy for fun, crazy for his family… or, at least, what he now _considered_ to be his family, which namely comprised of himself and his mom… But even amidst all the craziness…

_No._ He stopped himself dead in his tracks. If there was anyone he was helplessly crazy for, it was Bridgette.

Geoff sighed hopelessly. Why was he so pathetic? Seriously! Why was he so _obsessed_ with her to the point where he couldn't even sleep anymore?! Sleeping had always been one of his favorite pastimes, but now… Now, it was as if it didn't even matter.

In fact, _nothing_ mattered. If it meant no Bridgette, then, did _anything_ have purpose anymore? Was he merely some sort of insignificant pawn, left to fiddle with his own devices or be no more? Had life given him a reason for living other than pining over her relentlessly?

He stared long and hard at the mirror as these thoughts sprang forth, his gaze hardly wavering as he finally concluded, "No. I guess no matter how I see things, I was born to just love her."

And that was that. …Right?

Well, of course he was right! There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he wasn't. He could care less if the only reason he had been brought up into existence was so he could love her. That didn't matter. It even brought a lovesick smile to his face as he imagined how lucky he was to have such an opportunity bestowed upon him. He couldn't ask for a better way of spending his time. Even if it meant she'd never be there to literally receive his affections, at least he knew he was feeding them to her in his mind.

It was as the saying went, "He was made for her".

Wait, no. Geoff paused. It was actually a little different, something along the lines of… Now, hold on… what was it?

"_They_ were made for each other," he whispered in mixed horror and delight, correcting himself at last. Yet, his features fell considerably as the meaning of those words impacted him full force.

"_They_?" he questioned softly, touching his lips shortly after he said that.

Although he was certain he had been made for Bridgette, there was no way _she_ had been made for _him_.

He shook his head ruefully as moist tears came to his worn eyes. Was it really so hard for him to believe that Bridgette still cared about him, even after all this time without her seeing him?

He quickly emerged from the bathroom and dressed himself in his usual attire, save for his trademark pink shirt. He figured he ought to dress according to his mood—a blue shirt he had chosen instead—blue, to represent that he was feeling just that: blue with sadness.

Now he was greatly saddened because he was sure more than ever, Bridgette did not love him. And how could she? She had not seen him in over a year, and _a lot_ could have changed. Her feelings for him had probably changed; if she had even had feelings for him in the first place, that is—he couldn't remember.

The terrible fear of rejection itself had ominously lodged itself deeply within his skull.

Why would she still want him when she could find someone better instead? It made much more sense that way to think that she had gotten herself a wonderful boyfriend. A man who would treat her with respect, hold her, comfort her, and make her unconditionally happy: these were things he would never be able to do right. He couldn't please her…

The cowboy was abruptly broken out of his less than happy thoughts as he heard the doorbell chiming; its energetic tone seemed to mock him. "Company!" it sneered. "Wow, what a surprise! You're lucky someone even bothered to visit _you_, of all people!"

Geoff gritted his teeth at such a notion, still in a foul mood. He ignored any other signs of mental taunting and walked over to answer the door, but not before he hastily rubbed away at his wet puffy eyes, trying to make it appear as if hadn't been crying just now. With one powerful swing, he met his visitor at the door.

* * *

Bridgette stood standing before the threshold of Geoff's house for what she guessed had already been fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes she had so far spent worrying in anxiety, nervously gripping the piece of paper she held in her dainty hands. Glancing down at her watch yet _again_, she inwardly groaned. It was really starting to get late and she hadn't even done anything!

Why couldn't she just ring the doorbell? Didn't she have the guts? For once she was going to see _him_ after so painstakingly long! She'd dreamt of this defining moment ever since she was ruthlessly yanked away from his strong arms by the unwanted call of home.

Home. It was a place she could truly care less for if it meant not being with her beloved. For every second longer that continued to tick by as she waited here motionlessly, she could swear on her existence that she was slowly losing her mind.

"Come on, Bridgette," she muttered sharply as she verbally coached herself. "Just go in there. You've been _dying_ to see him. Just go, ring that doorbell, and let the formalities take care of themselves."

She internally scoffed. Easier said than done.

But she had to! She just _had_ to! At this rate, she'd never get to talk to him!

"_Talk_," she pronounced the word as if it were in a foreign language. To be able to see him was one thing—one amazing, incredible, mind-blowing thing, might she add—but actually _talking_ to him?! That was—why it was—it was positively _unbelievable_!

What would she do? What would she _say_?

"Oh, hi Geoff," she would casually stutter like a total ditz. "Long time no see! Just wanted to let you know that I got your poem and that I feel the same way, isn't that weird?" Insert dimply giggle here. "Now how's about a kiss?"

The blonde scathingly rolled her eyes. She was merely setting herself up for disastrous failure and wrenching heartbreak if she ever used those lines. In fact, if she even said anything at all she would be doomed.

"Ugh!" she hissed in exasperation. "Just _go_!" Her defiant hazel eyes left burning daggers into the shape of Geoff's door as she prepared to charge into battle. "On the count of three," she instilled stridently.

"_One._"

Her breathing froze.

"_Two._"

Her heart froze.

"…_**Three**__!_"

Time itself froze.

Beads of sweat formed on her brow as they leisurely trickled down her skin. It was now or never.

In an instant, the female surfer found her legs moving at such an unbelievably quick rate, the situation seemed almost comical. It was even painfully more so when she nearly crashed into the door. Thankfully, she managed to decrease her speed just in time before she made solid impact with fine wood. She highly doubted Geoff would want an imprint of her sprinting figure on his door. For once in her life, she had actually avoided doing something drastically clumsy or embarrassing.

Bridgette would have mentally berated herself some more over her own dumb luck, had she a second to spare. But right now, at this very moment, it was her time to redeem herself and get reacquainted over a brutal one year absence.

A million thoughts flew by in her head, none of them optimistic ones, at that. She knew so many things could go wrong… But her resolution had long been defined and looking back on it now, she wouldn't change it for the world.

Without another moment's hesitation, she rang the doorbell with one naturally elegant finger, her heart all the while pounding violently in her chest.

* * *

Everything seemed to happen in bleary slow motion as Geoff's surprised sapphire eyes met with Bridgette's equally stunned hazel ones. Although both blondes wanted more than anything for a chance to simply touch the other, neither of them made a single move for fear of disrupting this wonderful illusion.

Geoff felt his body shake with light tremors of excitement and disbelief. The incredible euphoria he received from the girl he so loved just standing there sent his chest muscles aflame, working with his beating heart to emit the most powerful warmth he ever felt in his entire life.

But he was still in such a state of utter shock that part of him found it hard to believe she was really present. Taken over by the strong urge to touch her, his hand shakily found its way to the soft, smooth skin of her face as he gently began to caress her.

Bridgette's shivering form as she instinctively leaned into him was a clear indication that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination. She was real.

"Bridgette?" he croaked, happy tears welling up in his eyes. "It's really you, isn't it?"

"Yes, Geoff," she whispered tenderly, a shy smile growing on her features as she too had tears cascading down her rosy cheeks.

At having finally seen her at last, he could take it no longer. He carefully inclined his head to meet better with Bridgette's face angle, his insides churning into explosive bits as the thousands of butterflies ensued their wild dance. He felt his face turn hot as his lips hung mere inches from hers, his hands tentatively trying to pull her closer.

It was only then when he realized exactly what he was doing, that his features went absolutely scarlet in downright bashfulness. But his sudden awareness didn't stop him from pressing onward as he carefully asked, "May I?" He gestured his intent with the simple wetting of his lips as he timidly searched her eyes for any signs of possible rejection. Geoff, above all, was a gentleman, and he would not kiss her if he did not have her permission.

Almost immediately, Bridgette flung her arms about his neck in response, wasting no time as she crashed her lips against his in a long, passionate kiss.

Caught completely off guard by her unexpected reaction, Geoff tensed slightly under her grip, but soon snaked his arms around her waist as he kissed her back with equal intensity.

Her tongue licked his teeth, requesting entrance, and he directly complied by allowing her in. The sensations that followed next were truly things of beauty. Their eyes were closed shut in utter ecstasy and bliss, blocking out their sense of sight in order to better use their sense of taste. Their tongues danced in a fit of fiery passion and desire, both persons taking their sweet time as they worked to memorize every portion of each other's mouths.

Meanwhile, Geoff delicately rubbed Bridgette's back as her hands found their way into his golden locks, tousling and raking through them with affection. It wasn't long after they broke their savory kiss to part for air, that they commenced in kissing other regions of each other's face and nibbling on one another's lips and earlobes sweetly.

A few satisfied moans of contentment echoed here and there, if only because the two were simply glad to be in each other's arms at last, sharing this moment together.

When the two lovebirds finally finished, both were panting slightly as they held each other closely, foreheads and noses touching. Geoff's blue orbs locked onto Bridgette's yellowish ones and they seemed to stare longingly into each other's eyes for hours.

"Bridgette," Geoff spoke at last, his voice husky yet laced with gentleness, "I know it's gonna sound cheesy when I say this, but I _really _love you."

Bridgette only gazed at him with a dreamy smile, "I love you, too."

Their hearts filled with an inexplicably breathtaking amount of joy and happiness at having heard one another say such words. They were the very words they had been yearning to hear every since they had met. Now the two teenagers actually knew what it felt like to be in love and loved in return.

"You know, Geoff," Bridgette murmured as she played with the hem of his shirt collar, "it really took me by surprise when I read that poem you wrote for me about all those sleepless nights you've had."

Her romantic partner arched an eyebrow in question. "How'd you get my poem? I never sent it to you..." He hastily added, "Although, I wanted to! I just… wasn't brave enough," he softly admitted.

"Well, that's strange then…" she mused thoughtfully. "I found it in my mail box yesterday and so, I just had to see you and tell you… tell you that I love you, and that I've been miserable without you as well."

He grinned at her, "Does this mean we're together?"

"We never broke up, silly," she smirked coyly, pulling him in for another chaste kiss.

"Mmmmm," he licked his lips. "I could get used to this."

"So could I," she confessed good-naturedly as she nuzzled into his neck.

Her boyfriend placed his face in her hair as he took in her rich natural scent; she smelled just like the ocean. It was a very fitting perfume for a beautiful beach girl like her.

"Hey, Geoff?" she inquired suddenly, looking up at him. "What ever happened to your pink shirt? I kinda liked it… Not that you don't look handsome in this blue one either."

"Oh, that?" he answered sheepishly. "I kinda changed it according to my mood."

"So…" the pretty surfer guessed, "you were feeling blue... as in... sad?"

He nodded, "Yeah. But now with you around, I don't think I feel so blue anymore. Actually, I'm starting to feel pink again." He blushed a deep crimson as he suggested, "Maybe it's because I'm in love."

"Awww," Bridgette cooed. "You're so sweet, Geoff."

"Well, it's true," he wore a lopsided expression as he said this, completely in a daze.

It was then, right now, that his mother's words swiftly came back to him.

_You need to have a main priority, Geoff. What do you want most out of life?_

The seventeen year old then closed his eyes sanguinely as he brought his girlfriend closer, making one of the most important decisions he would ever make in his young life. It was now that he knew his exact reasons for living.

From this day forth, he was going to live solely for the two people he loved most on this earth. His mother and Bridgette…

They were his top priorities.

He sighed as he kissed Bridgette's forehead, bringing her yet closer to his still beating heart, and smiling softly as he felt her heartbeat as well. He had a lot of things to be thankful for.

After all, he was living a dream come _true_.

* * *

**A/N: **HUZZAH! It's finally done! :D

I really do hope all of you enjoyed reading this! Thank you so much for everything!

And you too, Trish! I hope you especially enjoyed this as well.

Well, anyways, thank you all once again for reading this! If you could, please review. :)


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